


The 5

by Rose_Rassmusen



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, M/M, Nuclear Warfare, Original Universe, Post-Apocalypse, Radioactive, mute original character, the first of many
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Rassmusen/pseuds/Rose_Rassmusen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a nuclear wasteland, after an attack on home base, a group of five struggles to survive away from a solid home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 5

**Author's Note:**

> A short story I wrote for an English class. It's not finished, and is ongoing.

Life in the complex was so different from life on the outside. Every morning began at sunrise and ended at midnight, which was alright in the winter when days were shorter, but became tiresome in the long summer days. It had been over two years since the beginning of a nuclear war which had cost billions of people their lives, the most of any war in the history of the earth. It had finally stopped when the feuding country’s offices had been destroyed, and the command in charge of releasing nuclear weapons was no more. Millions died in the blast, but even more were killed from radiation poisoning or from drinking contaminated water. Somehow, most of the animals had survived, but most were unsafe to eat, and aggressive creatures were even more so now.   
Here, in the wasteland after the Last Great War, in a complex of concrete buildings, hidden by trees, begins our story. On September Fifteenth, 0002, the day began like any other. At the crack of dawn, the sirens blared and members from all ages arose for daily duties. Several groups of the survivors were sent out to scavenge all the safe food they could (ie. Go into town and ransack the stores) while others stood watch over the walls and took care of daily life inside the complex. Mothers and children and the elderly were excused from this duty, though there were only a few who fit those categories.   
A particular group of survivors were prepping for their route, gearing up with guns for protection and a dozen satchels in their Jeep. Gas cans were filled, satchels paced with food every day and brought back to camp. Nikkie, the youngest member of the group, only sixteen, was anxious as always for her first journey outside the complex since the last attack.   
“Do you think we’ll find any trouble?” She asked one of the more experienced members, an older man nicknamed Butch. He had earned the nickname. A set of clawmarks broke apart the tan of his arm on both sides, and on his legs. Two clawmarks split his dignified tan face into three even sections diagonally.   
“We’d better not.” He huffed quickly back to her as he slung a sack full of guns over his shoulder. She followed him to the jeep and hopped into the trailer behind where two others were waiting.   
The elder of the two spoke first. “The stores of gas are running low, and if we can’t find any good petrol we’ll have to turn some of the area lights off at night.” He informed Nikkie, a worried expression on his sun-darkened face. Mark had always seemed particularly handsome to Nikkie, and always like he was always in a crime drama of some sort. His worried blue eyes held a darkness to them like none other’s and his curly black hair was almost down to his shoulders, still twirling in loop-da-loops despite the extra weight. A soft five-o’clock shadow gave his face dimension and sharp cheekbones cast shadows on his jaw when he spoke. She was almost so distracted by how he looked that she forgot to reply, but just as she opened her mouth to say something, she was interrupted by the other passenger.   
“I’m more concerned about the hot water. If we don’t get any diesel fuel, we wont be able to power the heaters and we’d all have to take baths with cold water.” Talia chirped in. Only a couple years older than Nikkie, Talia was easily the most vain person in the complex. On a team of all stars, she was the tack in their shoe. She woke up before the morning sirins just to make sure her auburn hair was perfect and even smuggled in makeup. Everyone pretended not to notice. She was a good shot, though, and kept watch while the searchers brought back food and fuel.   
“They used to take cold baths in the old days all the time.” Nikkie countered, scraping her short black hair into an elastic band. “Doc told me they sometimes didn’t even take baths at all.” She grinned to herself as Talia made an ‘ew’ face and asked how they could possibly do that. The jeep roared to life as Butch started the engine and they were off into the forest, whipping past trees of all kinds, most of them dead or mutated. That was the way after nuclear fallout. Everything was either dead or mutated. The trailer rattled as they made their way down to town and the company kept cheery and light despite the growing apprehension they all felt about the dangers they faced down there.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The expedition was a successful one and went off without a hitch. Their food satchels were filled to the brim and gas cans were full of both petrol and diesel fuel. The group of five drove quietly back to the compound just as the sun was setting, only to find the chain-link fences broken through and trails of blood leading to corpses, mangled and broken. Butch saw it first, and Hank (the fifth member of the party) stared on in horror from the passenger’s seat. Nikkie, Talia, and Mark hardly had time to process what they were seeing before Butch slammed on the brakes and spun the Jeep and trailer around. He got out and Hank hopped out after, holding his rifle as Butch wielded his crossbow.   
“What the hell happened?” Talia asked and Mark let out a breathless reply.   
“We were attacked.” The trio in the back grabbed their weapons and followed Butch inside, using their typical search and retrieve formation.   
Butch barked out orders under his breath, speaking quietly but with force, in case the foul beasts that ransacked the compound were still there.   
“Tali, Mark, look for survivors. Nikkie, you’re with me, we’ll take all the rad pills and other supplies we can. Ready, go.” Nikkie followed Butch into the compound and kept her ears open for any creatures that may still be lurking in the maze of buildings. They headed straight for the storage rooms and on the way checked all the corpses for signs of life. A loud crashing came from one of the doors and a large grizzly bear burst forth, its hide half-melted from radiation. Nikkie aimed and shot it down with one bullet. Butch gave her a nod of appreciation but said nothing else as the bang still echoed off the mountains. They met no more trouble in getting to the supply rooms and took all they could fit in the bags which were also there, filling them up with paper and bullets and guns, everything they couldn’t make for themselves. Nikkie didn’t want to go back to her dorm in the complex, afraid of the corpses she would find there. The ones in the yard were people she hardly ever talked to, but her bunk-mates. . . She didn’t think she could live through losing her friends and family again.   
When they retreated they found Mark standing watch with Hank as Talia cried. She had probably found Nickolas, her boyfriend. Mark and Hank comforted her and they all got into the Jeep as soon as they saw Nikkie and Butch coming towards them. Butch jumped in the driver’s seat and brought the jeep to life, speeding off down the road as the three survivors in the rattling trailer sat silently. They only got so far from their home of two years when they couldn’t go anymore and they unloaded the camping supplies.   
They slept in shifts, Hank and Butch in one tent, Talia, Mark, and Nikkie in another with one awake at all times. In the morning they resumed travel, following a map to the closest refugee camp. Mark got to drive while Butch and Hank took survey duty. Talia sat in the passenger seat, hardly speaking except to tell Mark where the next turns were.   
Nikkie rarely saw Butch so affectionate, except when he was together with Hank. The usually gruff commander turned into a caring husband when Hank was near, and he would even stand for the younger man whispering or responding only with a nod. Nikkie found it entertaining and adorable, their type of unspoken communication. Hank’s throat had been burned by radiation poisoning and he had narrowly escaped death. The young brunette could hardly eat or speak, and he was extremely timid because of it. His skill for non-vocal communication was exceptional though and he held a whistle at all times during watch.   
Mark navigated them through the maze of cities easily and stopped a few miles outside the town they had just left, proposing they set up camp earlier. No one complained and they all pitched tents, setting up camp for the night. They were secluded enough to risk a fire. Nikkie was on the first watch and then Talia. The first watch went well, uneventful. Nikkie woke Talia up to do the second watch as the coals were burning down. The groggy nineteen-year-old took her place while Nikkie lay down to sleep. In the dark and silent of the night, there came a great roar and Nikkie woke up to watch claws slice through the tent and into Mark, sleeping on the other side of the tent. Mark screamed and Nikkie’s hand went to her handgun where she emptied the clip into a large cat, it’s pelt melted away from where it had come in contact with radiation. Mark was bleeding and shaking, and Butch, Hank, and Talia zipped open the tent to find Nikkie holding Mark’s head up while he shook with pain and coughed blood. His insides were practically his outsides and his wide blue eyes stared past Nikkie as she cried and begged him not to die. His hair was soaked with blood and the whole party looked on as Mark breathed his last, falling limp next to a dead cougar. Nikkie held him for a few moments more until she let him go and all eyes turned to Talia.   
“Why the hell weren’t you watching camp?!” Butch shouted at her, his face red with anger and suppressed grief.   
“I just... I fell asleep... I thought it would be alright! I’m a light sleeper,” Talia rushed to excuse.  
“Well apparently not!” Butch roared. Hank lightly touched his arm to calm him down. Butch just shook it off and stalked toward Talia who was backing up towards the fire. “You thought you’d just take a little nap while you’re supposed to be keeping watch?! You were responsible for four lives, Baker! Do you think that’s something you can just sleep through?! You got one of your own killed!” Talia looked terrified of Butch, knowing she was beyond the point of no return. “Take your personal items and one gun.” She looked panicked.   
“Please, no. Please, Butch, please.” She begged, kneeling.  
“Get out of my sight, and never come back.” There was fire in his eyes and all Nikkie could do was watch, knowing she shouldn’t get in his way.   
“Please, Butch.”   
“OUT!” He held up his handgun and pointed it at Talia. She turned and grabbed her bag from the trailer, taking one last look before Butch fired a warning shot and she ran. Nikkie stared in shock as Talia ran and numbly wiped the tears off her face. Mark was dead… Nikkie couldn’t turn and look. She’d already looked away and there was no way anyone could make her look. Of all the mangled corpses she’d seen, it just began to hit her now that after she’d spent the last two years rebuilding her family, they were all gone now - again. She knelt down and cried, streaks of hot salt water making their way down her face. Hank knelt to comfort her and salty tears fell down his face as well, Butch trying to ignore the show of compassion.   
“It’s almost dawn. We should pack up. Nikkie, help Hank pack up camp. I’ll deal with your tent.” He turned away and gently brought Mark’s dead body out from the ripped tent, along with all the bloody clothing and sleeping bag. He quietly covered the young adult’s body with leaves and sticks, giving him the most proper burial that they could. Butch returned to Hank and Nikkie when they had finished packing up and he slung all the things he had found in the tent into the back.   
“Nikkie, you drive.”   
She was shocked at the order but didn’t argue, taking the keys from Butch as he hopped into the back of the trailer with Hank. The day was solemn, Nikkie hardly heard a word from Butch or Hank, even when she had to stop multiple times and consult the map herself. If she was back before the war, she would get a day to grieve, maybe two, but here in the wasteland every moment was important. She could sometimes hear Butch and Hank arguing, looking behind her to see Hank furiously signing to Butch. She could tell he was very upset, he was even speaking along with the words in his garbled, broken voice despite how much it hurt him. After what seemed like forever, they reached a good stopping place and she pulled off into a park. She waited for Butch to get out and tell her to stop or keep going. He signaled, and she got out, helping them unpack the back-up tent.  
“Nikkie, you take first watch, I’ll take second.” She nodded and set to putting her own tent up while Hank and Butch put theirs up. She took first watch after dinner, extra vigilant after the events of the night before. She could hear Hank and Butch still arguing, going over the same things over and over.   
“I don’t care about what she did. You just sentenced her to death, David!” Hank’s voice came through the thin layers of tent, raw and crackly both from the damage and its underuse. They argued long into the early morning hours and only stopped when Nikkie interrupted to tell Butch it was time for the second watch. She slept until sunrise and packed up for the third time since leaving her home of two years. The drive was filled with energy, and Hank and Butch had apparently come to an agreement, so they weren’t arguing at all as Butch drove. They could all tell they were getting close, and as dusk approached, a complex of buildings, swarming with people, came up over the hill. The party of three slowly advanced up the hill until they were surrounded by other survivors and their things were being looked through.   
The leader of this complex was brought forward and stood in front of Butch, eying him up and down. “What are you doing here?” He asked, scrutinizing over every detail of the bedraggled party’s person. His face was wrinkled and he was obviously very old, but his eyes held power and the other men and women in the complex showed him the utmost respect.  
“The southern complex was attacked by creatures. Most bodies were dragged away. We were out on recon at the time, so we didn’t witness it.” Butch stood up straight in front of the commander of this building.  
“Name and rank?” He inquired, squinting. His voice was gravely and deep, and his stance resembled Butch’s.   
“David Lee Campton. General Officer. People call me Butch.” Butch nodded to the man, keeping eye contact. “This is Nikole James and my partner, Hank Berndt.”  
The man considered. “And you say you were on Recon duty?”   
“Sir, I believe in getting dirty just like your inferiors.” Butch answered, standing firm to his statement.   
“Alright then. Bring your vehicle in.” The man broke into a smile. “The name’s Frank Liam Houser. Nice to have your company.” He held out his hand for butch to shake. “They call me Pops.”  
Nikkie and Hank smiled as well and Butch took Frank’s hand, shaking it firmly.   
“It’s good to be here.” They brought all their things in, hope glimmering in their eyes. No matter how many times you are broken, you can always be fixed, and as Nikkie looked around, she could see herself making new family here in this new complex.


End file.
